Whispered Reflections

Whispered Reflections

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A Biography in the making. This is the true story about the life of my mother, who is currently 91 years old. Born in 1931 and given up for adoption, she may have been one of the last black market babies in Chicago. She was motherless, abused, and forced to give up her firstborn. She got divorced in an era where it was seriously not cool. She raised six children, only to out-live her oldest and her youngest. She cared for her husband of over 50 years when he became ill - and then wrote a book about it. She beat cancer - twice. She is an artist, a poet, and an author and has a great sense of humor. I'd call her a survivor, but she'd probably say, "It's just my life."
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Dear Reader: You are precious, priceless, and irreplaceable. In the entire history -- of the entire universe: In the history of all Eternity... There has been, and ever will be, only one you. Herein are opinions, observations, and things autobiographical. These essays and editorials were written within, oh, 2 or 3 years. I've survived autism, mania, depression, amnesia, multiple personalities, being borderline suicidal as a teenager ... and aardvark pox. (Or was it turkey pox?) My "editorial opinions" prove that I'm a fearless, ferocious... ¿Were-Chihuahua? [Every full moon, I turn into an ankle biter.] Me?? Delusional?? Nope. So, OF COURSE, I'm "considering" a career in American politics. {Made you smile.} Or cry: sorry about that. This ain't your typical autobiography. No. It is not. Seriously, though: "I've survived myself" is an acceptable legacy.

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